


White Goat

by clgfanfic



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 09:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team goes after a missing boy, but lands in the middle of something they don't completely understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Goat

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Vanished #5 under the pen name Dani Martin, with Mary Fallon Zane.

Martin Fitzgerald tossed his pen into the crack of an open file, then leaned back in his chair and stretched.  He felt the muscles in his shoulders slowly begin to relax, but that only allowed the weariness knotted there to settle into his bones.

 _Christ, I'm tired_ , he thought, the realization prompting a huge yawn.

          "It's not _that_ late," a voice commented with no small amount of amusement.

Martin turned to see Jack coming into the bullpen.  "Must be getting old," he replied.  "Why are you here?"

          Malone nodded and shrugged.  "Van Buren called me; we have a new case.  Why don't you give the others a call, we'll meet in here to go over the details in an hour."

          "Right," Martin replied, already reaching for his phone.  He called Danny first.

 _"Yeah?"_ came a sleepy voice at the other end of the phone.

          "I'd say good morning" Martin said, his eyebrows arching slightly when he heard the sound of a woman mumbling something in the background, "but it sounds like you might disagree."

          _"All depends,"_ Danny countered.  _"What's up?"_

          "Jack's here.  We have a new case.  He'll be briefing us in an hour."

          _"Awful morning,"_ Danny said, then whispered something to his companion in Spanish.

          That forced a smile onto Martin's lips.  "Yeah, tell me about it.  And here I was, trying to get caught up on the paperwork from the _last_ case…  Anyway, time to rise and shine, m'man."

          _"I always shine,"_ Danny teased.

"Yeah, right," Martin countered, then hung up.  Viv was his next call.

He leaned back in his chair, his expression turning serious as he wondered what they would be facing next.

_"Hello?"_

"Hi, Viv, it's Martin.  Sorry to call you so early, but Jack's here and we have a new case.  He wants to brief us in an hour."

          _"I'll be there,"_ she told him.

          "'Bye," he managed to get in before the line went dead.  He dialed again and waited.

          _"Hello, you've reached Samantha Spade.  Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as quickly as I can,"_ a masculine voice stated.

          "Sam, it's Martin, are you there?"  He waited for a moment, then added, "We have a new case…"

          _"New case?"_ Sam asked.

          "Briefing's in an hour.  Can you make it?"

          _"I'll be there,"_ she replied.

          "Okay, see you then."  Hanging up, Martin rose and stretched, then walked over to Jack's office.  He knocked on the doorjamb.  Malone was sitting on the small leather sofa in the room and he looked up from a file he was reading.

"They're all on their way," Martin told him.

          Jack nodded, then gestured to one of the two chairs sitting in front of his desk.

          Surprised, Martin stepped into the man's office and slid into the closest chair.  He couldn't help feeling like he'd just been called into the principal's office as he watched Jack lever off the sofa, stand and move over to take a seat behind his desk.  He leaned forward and handed the file he'd been reading over to Martin and leaned back, waiting as the younger agent read through it.

Martin opened the file and read through the papers inside.  When he was done, he set the folder back on Jack's desk and looked over at his boss.  "Okay, let me see if I've got the story straight; some Congressman decides a voodoo priestess can help him win an election, and now she's what, haunting them?  What's that got to do with us?"

"Evidentially he did win," Malone said.  "He's not a Congressman anymore; he was elected to the Senate this year."

"And he thinks voodoo was what won it for him?" Martin questioned, unsure how seriously he should take this.

"I don't think he'll be admitting that in an interview on CNN anytime soon, but, apparently, that is what he thinks."

Martin looked skeptical, but he shrugged and said, "I suppose anything's possible, but it sounds like he's being extorted."

"Probably," Jack replied, leaning back in his chair.  "Why don't you see what you can find on Senator-elect Castillo."

"Will do," Martin said, pushing to his feet.

Jack watched the younger man leave, a slight smile on his face.  _Anything's possible, huh?_ he thought.  Well, it was good Martin hadn't lost all that youthful optimism – yet…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

An hour later the members of the Missing Person Unit were seated around their conference table.  They each had a cup of coffee in front of them, as well as a notepad and a pen.  Jack walked to the head of the table and sat down, his gaze sweeping over each of them.  Then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on table, his expression grim as he said, "Senator-elect Richard Castillo, currently Congressman Castillo, an Independent from New York.  His constituents are a mix of yuppies, Puerto Ricans, Haitians, and a handful of immigrants from the Dominican Republic.

"Castillo was born to poor parents, who entered this country illegally.  He never did well in school, but he got to college on a baseball scholarship.  His grades there were mediocre – at best.  After college he held a series of what he calls 'dead-end jobs.'  He entered politics at the age of twenty-seven, starting with his local school board and working his way up.  Somewhere along the way he became involved, covertly of course, with a group of Santeria practitioners.  It was after that association that he began to win meaningful elections."

          Viv leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest.  "Don't tell me you buy any of this voodoo crap."

          Jack shrugged.  "What any of us believes isn't important.  Castillo believes, and that's the reality we have to deal with."

          "People believe a lot of things," Sam interjected.

          "Castillo's fight for the Senate was politically bloody and very expensive," Martin added.  "In fact, no one believed he could win against his Democratic and Republican challengers."

Jack nodded and picked up, saying, "Castillo turned to an old friend, Dominga Alvorado, a Santeria high priestess."  Viv started to object, but Jack held up his hand to forestall any comments.  "Castillo won the election by less than three hundred votes.  As a Senator, he will be assigned to several committees, including ones that review the budgets of several, shall we say, less than well-known government organizations."

          "Like what?" Danny asked, his eyebrows climbing slightly.  He did enjoy dabbling in a good conspiracy theory…

          Jack shook his head and shrugged.  "They didn't see fit to provide us with that information.  Let's just say that Castillo is poised to become a major power player inside the beltway."

          "So… who's missing, Castillo?" Sam asked.

          "Castillo's wife said her husband told her that he owed Señora Alvorado for his Senate victory," Jack explained.  "Apparently she asked the Senator for their oldest son, Edward, as payment for her services."

          "His first born?" Danny asked at the same time as Viv's eyes widened and she said, "Castillo's son?"

          Jack nodded.  "Naturally, the Senator refused.  Three days later Edward Castillo was killed – shot to death while he was sitting in his car at a red light.  He was twenty years old, with no history of gang involvement or drug use.  The police report concluded he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Señora Alvorado attended Edward's funeral," Jack continued.  "She expressed her sympathy to the Senator and his wife, and then asked Castillo for his second child, his oldest daughter, Ana Marie, in payment for his victory."

          Danny cocked his head, starting to look a little worried.  "Let me guess, he said no and Ana Marie died, too."

          "You're catching on," Jack replied, leaning back.

"How did she die?" Sam asked.

"In her sleep," Martin supplied.  "The coroner's report said it was an aneurysm.  She was sixteen years old, and in perfect health.  It's rare, but not unheard of."

"I take it Castillo didn't buy the ME's report," Viv said.

Jack shook his head.  "No, apparently not, according to his wife, anyway.  She says her husband was convinced that Alvorado was behind his children's deaths, but he didn't feel he could go to the authorities.  Evidentially his wife asked him to go to the police, begged him to go, but he refused."

Sam nodded.  "Makes sense.  I mean, how would it look if the press got wind of the story – U.S. Senator in league with Voodoo priestess… it would be political suicide."

"Exactly," Jack said.  "The Senator decided to handle things himself.  He hired someone to… scare Alvorado off."

Danny leaned forward.  "And?"

"Three days ago the Castillos' youngest child, Rosella, disappeared.  According to Mrs. Castillo, Señora Alvorado called the Senator and told him to come to Cat Island, or his remaining child would also die.  He told his wife he was going to go get their daughter back and left for the island.  Mrs. Castillo waited twenty-four hours, and when she still hadn't heard from her husband, she went to a friend of the family who happens to be a Secret Service agent."

"And he brought it to us," Danny concluded.

Jack nodded.

Martin picked up the story saying, "Authorities haven't been able to locate the Senator, or his daughter.  But Dominga Alvorado flew to Nassau the day before yesterday.  She had a traveling companion, too – a young girl.  The girl's passport said she was Maria Alvorado, the Señora's granddaughter."

"I take it she isn't the granddaughter?" Viv asked.

"No," Martin replied.  "According to a preliminary report, Dominga Alvorado has no children, so…"

"No grandchildren," Danny filled in.

"How old is the little girl?" Sam wanted to know.

"Rosella's tenth birthday is next week," Martin supplied.

"Are they on Cat Island?" Danny asked.

Jack nodded.  "We have satellite data hat places Alvorado in three separate locations that she seems to be using.  We also have an asset on the island who confirmed Alvorado is there and using those three locations."

Jack opened a second file and pulled out a map.  "If she's there on the island, maybe the Senator and his daughter are as well."

"Alive, we hope," Sam added.

"The Prime Minister has given us clearance to investigate," Jack told them.

"We're going to the Bahamas?" Danny asked, already smiling.

"It's not a vacation," Jack growled at him.

"Still, it's the Bahamas," Danny countered, still looking excited.

"He's got a point," Sam added, looking a little excited with the prospect herself.

Jack rolled his eyes.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Federal** **Building**

**The next day, 10 a.m.**

 

Jack studied the faces of his agents.  He could tell that they were already thinking ahead, looking for ways to extricate Alvorado, ways to get on and off the island, ways to blend in with the local population…  The ghost of a smile folded the corners of his mouth.  He was a very lucky man.

Viv was the first to ask the most obvious, pressing question, "How do we enter the island without drawing attention to ourselves?  I doubt they're going to think we're all there on an office vacation."

"We'll all be going in with separate cover stories," Jack told her.  "Different modes of transportation."

"That's going to take some time to arrange," Viv challenged, looking worried.  Malone had already said they needed to leave A-S-A-P.

"Time we don't have if we're leaving today," Sam added.

Jack nodded.  "I know, but it'll be easier than you think.  Couple of spooks on the island to monitor drug trafficking are already working on it for us.  It'll be ready when we are.  Viv and I will go together," he explained, his gaze darting in her direction almost shyly.  When her eyebrows arched in curiosity, he added, "A second honeymoon."

Martin and Danny grinned.

"A second honeymoon?" Sam echoed.

Jack ignored her amused comment.  "Sam, our in-country asset says the locals have some kind of home-grown musical movement going on.  You'll go in as a music industry type looking to score some money off the locals."

Sam grinned, puffing out her chest and looking pleased with herself.  "I think I can pull that off."

Jack turned to Danny and Martin.  "Danny, you and Martin will play American tourists.  Take some real gear in case anyone checks you out."

The pair nodded.

"When do we go?" Danny asked.

"This afternoon," Jack said.  "So, go pack your bags and get whatever you need.  Be back here in three hours.  We'll lay out the equipment then.  We should have our papers and plane tickets, too."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Federal** **Building** **, 2:00 p.m.**

 

          Jack handed out plane tickets out to each of the agents.  "These will take us to Miami – three different flights, two different airlines.  We'll head to the island tomorrow.  Rooms have already been reserved for us at different hotels in Miami.  The reservation information is in with your tickets.  There are no landing strips on Cat Island.  Viv and I will take a charter flight from Miami to Nassau tomorrow morning.  The resort we'll be staying at has its own boat that ferries guests from there to the Island."

          "Nice," Viv said, smiling.

Jack turned to Martin and Danny.  "You'll both be taking a charter flight from Miami to Palm Beach, then another over to Freeport, Grand Bahama.  There'll be a rental boat waiting there for you."

"Oh yeah," Danny said, a predatory smile on his lips.

"You'll head straight for Cat Island from there.  There should be a slip reservation arranged for you by the time you arrive," Jack concluded.

          The two men nodded, but Danny looked at Martin and asked, "You know how to drive a boat?"

          Martin just smiled.

          Jack finally turned to Sam.  "There will be a helicopter waiting for you in Miami tomorrow morning.  You'll fly straight to the island."

          She smiled.  "Sweet, very, sweet."

          Danny and Martin rolled their eyes.

          "Why does she get to have all the fun?" Danny asked Martin sotto voice.

          Jack handed out business cards to Sam and Martin.  "Once you're on the island, give this woman a call.  She has cell phones.  Don't use the land lines, they're completely unsecured.  She can fill you in on the local situation."

          "Dr. Alexandria Blackmoon?" Danny questioned, looking at the card Martin was holding.

          Jack nodded.  "She's well-known anthropologist who's worked for the government for many years.  We'll be arranging a public meeting with her.  I'll call and give you the details later."

          Danny's brow furrowed with concern.  "Just how old is this woman?"

          Jack smiled.  "Just call her when you get there. The satellite data hasn't helped us narrow down the possibilities.  If she knows where Alvorado is holed up, it'll save us a lot of time."

"And time is definitely our enemy," Sam agreed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**The following day, 10:00 a.m.**

**Cat Island** **, Bahamas**

 

          Several of the locals stopped what they were doing to watch as a sleek, black helicopter set down at the edge of Old Bight, the largest town on Cat Island.  They shielded their eyes from the bright sunlight with their hands.  A moment later they watched the pilot jump down, then run around to the side of the chopper and open the door.

Whoever was inside must be very important indeed.  A celebrity, maybe, an actor or actress, they whispered amongst themselves.

          The woman who stepped out caused the small crowd to stop and stare.  She was young, blonde, and pretty.  She wore a bright blue business suit that was stylish and flattered her figure.  Dark glasses protected her eyes. She strode purposefully away from the chopper, leaving the pilot to gather and follow after her with her luggage.

          Another rich American, the people watching agreed.  But no one they recognized.  She would be staying at the new resort.  "In the biggest suite," one of the women spat, shaking her head.

          "Maybe she will want some company," one of the men commented.

          "Pig," the woman replied.

          He cursed her in Spanish, then turned and continued with his errands – a man could dream, couldn't he?

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Pink Sands Resort, Cat Island**

**1:00 p.m.**

 

          Sam sat in the resort's well-appointed lounge, sipping on a club soda and watching the other guests come and go.  She saw the horse-drawn surrey pull up outside, the honeymooners climbing out.  Viv was dressed in a bright floral-print, the summer dress flattering her figure.  Jack was dressed in cream-colored dockers and a brick red polo shirt.  They definitely looked the part of a happily married couple, and Sam wasn't sure exactly how she felt about that.  The truth be told, she had expected Jack to give _her_ the role of his wife, but maybe that would be asking for trouble, given their past history.

Viv tilted her head back and smiled as she wrapped an arm around one of Jack's and pressed against him.  He smiled down at her, then fished into his pocket for a tip for the driver.

          A bellboy appeared with a luggage cart, loading their suitcases as the couple headed into the lobby.  While Jack spoke to the young Black woman behind the counter, Viv looked around, a smile on her face.  She spotted Sam, her gaze resting on her just long enough to acknowledge her.  Sam lifted her glass in a small toast.  Now all they needed were Martin and Danny.

          She wondered how they were doing, recalling the last conversation she'd overheard.  Martin had returned to the office with a suitcase, a carryon, tennis racket, golf clubs and a sea kayak.

          Danny took one look at the kayak and laughed.

          "You're taking a canoe?"

          Martin rolled his eyes.  "It's a sea kayak."

          "Whatever," Danny replied, already turning to grab his own stuff.

          She had to admit, the tennis racket and the golf clubs didn't surprise her, but the kayak did.  She sighed softly, wondering if she hadn't let something good slip away…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Cat** **Island** **, 4:00 p.m.**

 

          After making sure that their fishing gear was stowed, Danny and Martin tied off their expensive cabin cruiser, grabbed their suitcases, and headed up the quay to the dock master's office.  After paying the inflated slip fees they asked about a nice hotel and were immediately referred to the Pink Sands Resort.  They thanked the man and headed out to hire a taxi.

          At the resort they checked in, Danny grinning at the pretty young Black woman standing behind the counter.  She smiled and dipped her head, her creamy brown skin not quite hiding the blush that colored her cheeks.

          As she handed Danny two electronic keys she added, "One of our guests is hosting an open bar this evening from six to seven.  I hope you'll be able to come down and enjoy her generosity."

          "Her?" Danny echoed.  "Well, we should be able to manage that.  When do you get off?"

          "Not until ten," she replied, the blush returning.

          "I hope I'll see you then," he told her.

          "Well, maybe you will," she promised.

          When they reached the elevators, Martin grinned and shook his head.  "Smooth, very smooth."

          Danny smiled and shrugged.  "It's a gift."

          "It's something, that's for sure," Martin agreed as the door slid shut.  "Your, uh, friend from yesterday morning might not like that…"

          Danny grinned and shrugged one shoulder.  "Well, she was having a hard time dealing with our hours anyway…"

          "You mean she dumped you?"

          Danny smirked and sighed.  "No… she just wanted a bigger commitment than I can give her right now.  I'm sure she'll find someone and be very happy."

          "Just like you'll be if Jorika meets you tonight after her shift," Martin said and grinned.

          The elevator bell sounded and the doors slid open.  The two men exited, Danny reaching up to rest his hand on Martin's shoulder.  "Absolutely," he said.  "Oh, absolutely."

          Martin just shook his head.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Pink Sands Resort**

**6:15 p.m.**

 

          Most of the resort's guests wandered through the lounge and atrium, sipping on their free drinks and enjoying the various treats being carried around on trays by the kitchen staff.  Jack and Viv stood near the open wall that looked out on the pink sand beach, watching the sun as it dipped lower in the sky.  It was going to be a beautiful sunset.  They sipped on the same glasses of champagne that they had picked up earlier.

          Jack's gaze swept over the guests in regular intervals.  When he spotted Martin and Danny he set his glass down on a small table that was dominated by a large flowering plant and strode across the room.  It was show time.  "Martin?" he called loudly.

          Martin looked up, meeting Jack's eyes, then broke into a hearty smile.  He slapped Danny on the shoulder with the back of his hand.  "Hey, that's Jack Anderson," he said, nodding at the approaching man.

The people standing nearby looked from Martin to Jack, wondering if they should recognize either man.  The resort was a known getaway for celebrities and business moguls, but these two men were unfamiliar.

Jack reached Martin and the two men shook hands like they hadn't seen each other for years.

"Jack," Martin greeted, "it's good to see you."

"How long has it been?" Jack asked, glancing at Danny.

"Too long," was Martin's reply.  "Jack, this is my new business associate, Danny Salvador."

"Danny," Jack replied, proffering his hand.

The Cuban shook it.  "Jack."

"Look, I'd like you to meet my wife," Malone continued smoothly.  He turned and gestured for Viv to join him.  She smiled and crossed the room in a sensual glide that had most of the men nearby watching.  She had changed into an ivory sheath dress with spaghetti straps that showed off her shapely figure.

"Hello," she said as she reached the men.

          "Sweetheart," Jack said, "this is Martin Fellows, the man I told you about.  And his business partner, Danny Salvador."

          "Mr. Fellows," Viv said, shaking Martin's hand.  "It's nice to finally have met you."

"A pleasure, Mrs. Anderson," Martin replied, a smile twinkling in his blue eyes.

She turned to Danny.  "Mr. Salvador."

          "Most definitely a pleasure," Danny replied, taking her hand and lifting it to place a kiss lightly on the back.

          "How nice," she replied with a slight purr.  "I could get used to this."

          "Have you two gotten a drink?" Jack asked.

          "Not yet," Martin replied.

          "Here, let me show you where the bar is, it's right over here," Jack offered, leading them over.

          As they neared the bar an older woman stepped up and ordered a glass of sangria.  The bartender poured her drink and handed it to her.  She turned just as the foursome reached her.

          "Dr. Blackmoon?" Viv asked, her eyes rounding with surprise.

          "Vivian!" the older woman replied, setting her drink back on the bar and opening her arms.  Viv stepped up and the woman folded her into a warm hug.  "It's so nice to see you again!  You look wonderful!"

          Viv stepped back, smiling.  "Thank you.  Oh, Doctor, this is my husband, Jack Anderson."

          Dr. Blackmoon looked at Jack, her gaze appraising.  "Very nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson."

          "Jack, Dr. Blackmoon is the—" Viv began.

          "Anthropology professor you told me about.  I remember," he finished for her.

          "Are you here doing research?" Viv asked while Martin and Danny ordered their drinks – a Cosmopolitan and a club soda.

          "Actually, I'm semi-retired now, but I can't give up the research completely, so, yes, I'm still doing some here on Cat Island."

          "Excuse me," someone interrupted.

          The group turned to find Sam standing there, wearing a nearly backless black sheath dress.  "I just overheard…  You wouldn't happen to be _the_ Dr. Blackmoon, would you?"

          "Yes, that's me," the older woman said, looking half amused and half wary.

          "Samantha Safford, Doctor, with World Beat Records," she said, extending her hand.  "I was hoping to talk to you about the local music scene.  I hear it's very unique."

          Dr. Blackmoon smiled.  "Yes, well, I'd be happy to talk to you, but I just ran into one of my old students—"

          "Oh, that's all right," Viv said.  "I'm sure we can get together later.  Jack and I will be here for two weeks.  He just met an old business partner—"

          "Well, since this _is_ my party, in a manner of speaking—" Sam began.

          "You opened the bar?" Jack asked, interrupting.

          Sam shrugged.  "It was the least I could do, considering I'm hoping to make a great deal of money by bringing the local music to the peoples of the world.  Look, why don't you all come up to my suite for supper?  You can catch up and I can ask the good professor about what I hear is a most unique musical movement going on here."  She smiled, a dazzling smile that would have been difficult for anyone to turn down.

          "Jack?" Viv asked, gazing up at him hopefully.

          Jack glanced over at Martin and Danny, "What do you say, Marty?" he asked.  "I'd love to hear what the old man's got you doing these days."

          Martin and Danny exchanged looks, then Martin nodded.  "Sure, why not," he said.

          "Great.  I'll just let the staff know we'll need a meal for… six," Sam said.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Pink Sands Resort, Grand Suite**

**6:50 p.m.**

 

          In Sam's suite the team and Dr. Blackmoon settled on the chairs and couches arranged at the center of the living room space.

          "Doctor, I'm guessing someone's already talked to you about why we're here," Jack stated.

          She nodded.  "The situation was explained, yes."  Dr. Blackmoon was a handsome woman, despite her sixty-plus years.  Her skin was dark brown and still smooth except for the laugh lines carved deeply into the corners of her black eyes.  Her thick hair was black, but streaked liberally with silver.

          "Can you tell us a little about the Island?" Viv asked her.

          Dr. Blackmoon nodded.  "The Islanders maintain that Columbus Point, which is actually an old Indian cave, is where Christopher Columbus first made landfall in the New World.  It's a point debated among historians, but what we do know for certain is that the Spanish were the first to colonize this Island."

"Why is it called Cat Island?" Danny asked.

"The Spanish might have been the first to land here first," the anthropologist explained, "but it was named for Arthur Catt."

"British sea captain," Martin interjected.

"Or pirate," Blackmoon countered with a warm smile, "depending on your point of view.  Some say the Island was named for Catt himself, others say it was called that because of all the wild cats the English found here in the 1600s – descendants of the domestic cats the Spanish had left behind."

"Do you know where Señora Alvorado is hiding?" Danny asked.

          "Oh, the Señora isn't in hiding," Dr. Blackmoon replied.  "She and her followers have been seen all over the island the last two days."  The anthropologist reached into her large, colorful tote bag and pulled out a map of the Island, which she unfolded on the coffee table so the others could see.  "As you can see, Cat is a boot-shaped island, one of the most beautiful in the Bahamas chain."

          "It's a lot of territory to cover," Sam added, taking in the map.

          "Sixty miles of beaches," Dr. Blackmoon offered.  "But some of the island is densely forested foothills.  No one lives there.  And I doubt the Señora will flee into the wilds."

          "Where would you suggest we start?" Viv asked.  "The satellite intel showed her at three separate locations."

          "Yes, I've seen the same data, but I'm sure we can rule out one of the three.  It's a house that belongs to a local official.  She visited to pay him off so he would leave her alone to perform her rituals."

"That still leaves two locations to check out," Jack said, his expression growing troubled.  They needed to have the Senator and his daughter by no later than 3 p.m. the day after tomorrow – the time limit the Prime Minister had given then.

"I'm afraid so.  But if it's any help the island is dotted with old cotton plantations that were established in the 1700s.  I would guess that she's holed up on one of those.  But there are also old slave villages and caves that the Arawak Indians used to use.  They honeycomb the island.  The Arawak were the indigenous people of these islands.  She could be staying at any of the ruins, but I still think the old plantations would be your best bet.  Dominga has always appreciated the comforts of life – the more comfortable the better."

Jack nodded at the information.  "The satellite photos showed her at two of the old plantation sites.  The third a house on the outskirts of one of the villages; I take it that was the official's home?"

The anthropologist nodded.

          "Are there any maps of these plantation sites?" Viv asked.

          Dr. Blackmoon shook her head.  "No, I'm afraid not, but I recognized them from the pictures I was shown.  I'd check the site closest to Old Bight first.  That's the largest community on the island, so it would put her close to anything she might need from town, as well as plenty of worshipers to draw from."

          "Tomorrow morning we'll split up and start looking," Jack decided and the others nodded their agreement.  He turned back to Dr. Blackmoon.  "What can you tell us about Dominga Alvorado; what are we going to be up against?"

          The anthropologist leaned back and sighed softly.  "Dominga Alvorado is a high priestess of a voodoo cult that includes members in Florida, Haiti, as well as here in the Bahamas."

          "What's her specific connection to Cat Island?" Sam asked.  "Why is she here?"

          "Her grandfather was an islander," Blackmoon explained.  "She regularly travels from the U.S. to the island.  The local authorities have believed for many years that she's part of a narcotics cartel, but they've never really tried to prove it – they're afraid of her powers, and with good reason.  Those who get in her way have a tendency to die.  As far as I know, Dominga Alvorado has never been questioned by the police in any of the countries she regularly travels to, except the U.S.  As for why she's here now, if what I was told is true, she might be here because she feels safest here."

          "The folks here think her… mojo's strong?" Martin asked.

          Blackmoon studied the young man for a moment, then nodded.  "Yes.  She's seen as a most powerful woman among the people here.  No one will willingly betray her by helping you.  They're too afraid of her power to do that."

          Jack shot Martin a glance.  "You don't believe any of this stuff, right?"

          Martin shrugged.  "I just try to keep an open mind."

          Viv's eyes widened slightly and she cocked her head to one side, surprised.  Danny and Sam just stared at Martin, unsure how to interpret the comment.

          "A healthy attitude for the islands," Dr. Blackmoon commented sagely.

          They spent the next two hours eating and discussing the island and Señora Alvorado.  By the time they headed back to their individual rooms – Danny heading off to see if the young woman from the front desk was finally off duty – they had their assignments for the following day worked out.  Jack and Viv would visit the usual tourist spots, including the plantation houses nearest Old Bight.  Martin and Danny would take the boat and head along the coastline, checking the second plantation house she had been seen visiting.  Sam and Dr. Blackmoon would head out to some of the smaller villages to listen to the islanders play their unique brand of music, and to ask about the Señora, and any possible rituals she might be planning.

          As they headed back to their rooms, Danny rested his hand on Martin back, asking, "So, you going to take the canoe along tomorrow?"

          Martin sighed.  "Danny, it's a kayak.  It's specifically for use in the ocean.  A sea kayak, _not_ a canoe."

          "Whatever," Danny replied, giving Martin's back a slap as he reached his room.  "I'm gonna go brush my teeth and then go see if Jorika is off.  See you in the morning."

          Martin sighed again and shook his head.  "Yeah, okay.  Uh, good luck."

          Danny flashed him a grin, then was off.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Reynolds-Smyth Plantation, 11:00 p.m.**

 

          The middle-aged man stepped into the small room, his fingers crushing the floppy felt hat in his hands over and over as he waited to be acknowledged.  His gaze darted over the whitewashed room, noting each of the symbols painted on the walls.  The room hummed with power and reeked of darkness.  He broke out into a cold sweat.  He didn't want to be there, but she had called for him, so he had come.

Now and again he found himself staring at the woman who had summoned him, and each time he forced his gaze away, afraid she might notice and take offense.

          She was still beautiful, even though he knew she must be close to sixty years old.  She looked no more than forty, her long, black hair untouched by gray and her brown skin completely smooth and unblemished.  Dressed as she was now, in a loose white cotton dress that revealed her shoulders and the first blush of her ample breasts, she was enchanting and seductive.  A bright, blood red sash cinched the dress in at her narrow waist and the full skirt of the outfit flared out in a circle where she sat, like petals from some island flower.  And she was as lovely as an exotic flower with her high cheekbones, large, almond-shaped eyes and delicate nose.

Her eyes were closed, but the man knew they were a strange amber-gray color that seemed to penetrate into a man's soul.  Her lips were full and red.  She looked harmless, until you met those almost snakelike eyes.  In their depths lay something dangerous and he was afraid.

          Gold earrings and bracelets tinkled as she stirred at last.  "Manelo," she said, her voice a rich contralto with the soft velvet brush of an island accent.

He dipped his head and shuffled forward, squeezing his felt hat even tighter.

She stroked her own cheek with long, red-painted fingernails.  Her hands were thin-boned, her fingers reminding the man of a spider's legs.  And she had ensnared him.  His will was hers to command, and he knew it.

She held out her hand then and he stepped forward to accept the offering, brushing his lips against her knuckles.  He did not like to touch her, even though her skin was warm and dry.  He could feel her, draining his life away when he touched her.

"I have seen them," she said in her soft, deep voice.  "They come for Castillo and his daughter."

"Yes," he said, dipping his head.  "It is just as you said, Señora – five of them, three men and two women.  They are staying at the Pink Sands Resort."  He risked a glance up, adding, "But, Señora, they do not seem to know one another."

"Oh, they know each other," Dominga replied, her voice hardening.  "They are a dangerous force.  And Blackmoon?"

"Yes, she met with them, just as you said she would."

"Were they exactly as I described?"

"Yes, Señora."

She tossed back her head and laughed, the sound sending a chill down the man's back.  Her dreams were just as powerful as they always had been.

"Perhaps you should let the man and his child go," Manelo suggested, but he dared not look at her as he did.

"No."  She stood, the white skirt of her dress swirling around her long brown legs.  "Castillo accepted my help, used my power, and then refused to pay me what I was due.  I will exact my price from him."

"But, Señora, he is a powerful man, with powerful friends.  What—?"

"They are not as powerful as I," Alvorado proclaimed arrogantly.  She walked around the room, looking at the many drawings on the walls and floor.  She finally stopped in front of an altar decorated with a crucifix, candles, flowers, a wooden statue of an old African god, and several fetishes made from decorated animal and human bones.  Reaching out, she caressed one made using a child's finger bones.  "I will make one of them my goat.  These strangers will not stop me.  Castillo and his daughter will be mine.  I will have my eyes and ears in the American government.  _And_ I will have my protégé."

Manelo swallowed convulsively as her power slowly wrapped around his neck, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.  He dropped his hat, his fingers clawing at the unseen fingers that were strangling the very life from him.

Fetish in hand, Dominga turned when Manelo finally dropped to his knees, his lips having turned blue from the lack of oxygen.  She chanted softly, her eyes bright with excitement.

A moment later he fell onto his side, his tongue bulging out over his lips as he slowly strangled to death.  When she finally saw his soul escape through his eyes, her fingers closed tightly around the fetish.

Taking a small knife from the altar, she used it to open his throat.  Blood poured onto her hand and the fetish she still held there.  When the bones were red she stood.

Turning back to the altar, she stripped the fetish of its sodden feathers and beads, then dribbled the bones and blood into a small bowl.  Working slowly and calmly as she chanted under her breath, she ground the bones into a paste, then added a series of other powders to the mortar bowl, grinding them together.  When she was done she poured half of the contents into a small red-leather bag.

Next she carried the bowl over to Manelo's body.  Whispering a spell, she waited a moment, then knelt next to the dead man.  A moment later his unseeing eyes began to cry dried blood.  She collected some of the almost black dust, adding it to the remainder of her potion, then ground it in as well.

When she was done she poured the rest of the dust into a black-leather bag, then walked out of the room without a backward glance at her victim.

A tall, athletic-looking black man waited for her in the hallway.  He was young, in his late twenties, and she paused long enough to stroke her fingernails over his bare chest.  He trembled under her touch.  She handed him the two bags of powder.

"Tomorrow, find the strangers," she commanded.  "Use the powder in the red bag on the Cuban.  And use the powder in the black bag on his White companion.  They will come here together.  But take care, they are powerful in their own way.  If you fail me I will be sure to punish you."

The man accepted the bags with a slight nod, but there was nervous sweat already beading across his upper lip as he swiftly fled.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**The following day, 9:00 a.m.**

 

          Danny watched the water for any possible obstacles as Martin maneuvered the cabin cruiser into a small natural cove along the Cat Island coastline.  As soon as Martin dropped the anchor, Danny turned to their gear and began pulling on the fins, mask and snorkel they had rented.  Martin quickly joined him and did the same.

          Danny grinned at him.  "So, what are you going to do with that canoe?" he asked, jerking his head in the direction where the sea kayak sat.

          Martin sighed softly.  "I brought it along just in case, and it's a sea kayak," he replied.

          "Whatever," Danny said, then stuck the snorkel in his mouth.

They sat on the edge of the boat, then fell back into the warm water.  They swam around the cove for close to twenty minutes, making sure they looked like tourists out for a morning of snorkeling to anyone who might be watching.  Under the clear water, Martin tapped his watch and signaled toward the beach.

Danny nodded.

The pair swam into the low surf, then stood and walked up onto the beach.  They flopped down on the pink-tinted sand, the water on their bodies already beginning to dry in the warm morning sun.  They talked softly about the weather, the island, and where they wanted to go next.

About fifteen minutes later, Danny stood, smiling down at his companion.  "I'll go take a look around, see if there's anything worth exploring," he said.  "You work on your tan – you need it more than I do."

          "Think I can handle that," Martin replied with a grin.  He lay back on the sand, enjoying the feel of the sun on his chest and legs.  When he started to get hot, he rolled over, letting the warmth form the morning sun relax his back and shoulders.

          He listened to the sound of the wind in the foliage, the water lapping at the pink sand, and the constant cries of various birds in the trees.  But there was nothing that might tell him that Danny was on his way back.  Lifting his head, he checked his watch – twenty-three minutes.  He frowned.  Danny was three minutes overdue.

          Martin pushed himself up and stood.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Danny found the large, square plantation home in six minutes.  He waited for six more minutes to confirm his initial suspicion that several well-armed men were guarding the building.  He counted seven in all; four of them walking a specific path, watching for any trouble, the others positioned at each of the three patios.  Then a little girl stepped out into one patio, a doll clutched in her arms.  A man stepped out after her and quickly escorted her back inside.

The agent recognized the man:  Richard Castillo.  The little girl must be his daughter.  He was just starting to turn back to join Martin when another motion at the side patio stopped him.  A Black man stepped out and glanced around.  He looked nervous, or anxious.

Danny watched the man take a deep breath, then force himself off the patio, disappearing into the trees.

The agent followed him.

          After another five minutes Danny knew the man was headed for the same beach where Martin was waiting.  He checked his watch – eighteen minutes.  He was due back in two, but there was no way to circle around the stranger now; they were too close to the beach.  Besides, he had no idea what the man's intentions were.  Better to continue to tail him, just in case.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Martin had just stood when a Black man emerged from the thick foliage.  The agent's trained gaze swept over the stranger.  He didn't appear to be armed.

          "Hello," the stranger called with an unconvincing smile.

          "Hi," Martin replied.

          "Beautiful mornin'," the man added, his accent the lilting singsong of a native islander.  "Would you like to see some of the local sites, maybe?"

          Martin smiled, but his nerves hummed with anticipation.  Where was Danny?  Was this man responsible for his friend being overdue?  "Naw," he replied.  "I'm just waiting for a friend.  We're gonna do some snorkeling, and I have my sea kayak.  Hey, this isn't a private beach, is it?"

          No," the man said, shaking his head.  "There are some interesting places around here," the man pressed, walking closer.  "Plantations, old slave quarters, even Indian caves.  I'd be happy to show you… cheaper than the official guides.  I know the best spots; can tell you many stories."

          Martin took a deep breath and bent his knees slightly, getting ready as the man got within striking distance.  The stranger didn't seem to notice, and the agent hadn't expected him to.

Movement in the trees caught his attention and Martin turned his head just far enough to check it in his peripheral vision.

Danny.

          A wave of relief swept over Martin at the same moment as the stranger lifted his hand as if to shake Martin's.  "What do you say?" the man asked.  "I even know where you can find willing women, or drugs, if you'd like."

          Before Martin could reply, the man raised his hand and flipped it over.  In his palm was a small mound of red powder.  The man blew the dust into Martin's face.

          Martin sucked in a breath before he could stop himself.  He choked and staggered back a step as the powder seared into his lungs.  He blinked rapidly as the man, then the foliage, began to undulate like he was looking at them in a bad fun house mirror.  The roar of the tide filled his ears, painfully pounding his consciousness before everything went black.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Danny reached the edge of the trees just as the man walked up to Martin.  He could see that the man was ready for an attack, but the man didn't appear to be threatening, just annoying, trying to secure a job as tour guide.  Danny moved though the shadows, catching his partner's attention.

          He watched as the man extended his hand as if to shake hands with Martin, but before Fitzgerald could do so, the man blew something into Martin's face.

          "Damn it," Danny hissed, already bolting from cover.

Martin's eyes went wide and his breath caught in his throat with an audible choking gasp.

Danny reached the sand just as Martin stumbled back and fell to his knees. Afraid the man might attack his partner, Danny caught him with a stunning blow to the back of his neck.  The stranger went down to his knees, but he immediately came back up, fighting.  The ferocity of the man's attack took Danny by surprise.  It was like he was possessed, or high on something, and Danny quickly found himself in a defensive position, just trying to keep the man from overpowering him.

Then the stranger suddenly broke off the attack and bolted into the cover of the trees.  Danny took three running steps after him, then swung back to check on Martin, who was slowly climbing back to his feet.  He sprinted back to join him, helping the wobbly man to stand.  "You okay?" he asked, grabbing Martin's arm.

          He nodded, letting Danny support most of his weight until the world stopped spinning.  "What the hell just happened?"

          "That guy blew something in your face," Danny explained, quickly checking his teammate over as best he could while he literally held him on his feet.  He found a pale red powder clinging to the man's skin and rubbed some off with his fingertips.  He smelled it, but could detect no odor.  "You went down like he'd cold-cocked you," he said.  "You still have some of the stuff on your face.  You better wash this stuff off; it might be cocaine or something."

          Martin shook his head and blinked rapidly.  "It feels like he popped me one," he admitted.  "Everything's spinning around."

          "Head hurt?"

          "Yeah," he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck as he stood up straighter.

          Danny frowned, still keeping a hand on Martin's arm until he was sure the man was steady on his feet.  "I think we better get you back to the resort.  They've got a physician on staff.  He can look you over."

          "I'll be all right," Martin argued as he walked to the surf and used the seawater to wash the powder off his face.  "I'm feeling better already."

          "All right, but if your head still hurts when we get back, you get checked out, okay?  Who knows what the hell that stuff is."

          Martin flashed the man a smile.  "Aye-aye, Captain," he teased.

          "Come on," Danny growled, but he was grinning.  "I found Castillo."

          "You did?"

          "Yep, I saw him and his daughter.  At least they're still alive.  But the Señora's got at least seven hired guards patrolling the grounds."

          "Seven?" Martin repeated, his smile getting wider.  "That all?"

          Danny grinned.  "Yeah, well, I figure we ought to be able to handle seven of them…  Maybe we can use that canoe to sneak in."

          "Sea kayak!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          He stepped out to join her in her private garden.  His hands were shaking so badly he forced them into his pockets so she wouldn't see them.

          She was dressed all in white, as she always was, her back to him when she hissed, "You failed."

          "I'm sorry," he said, the tone of his voice begging.  "I could only find the white man.  His companion moved like a leopard, hiding in the shadows.  He attacked me."

          "I told you to use the powders on _both_ men, did I not?"

          "Yes, mistress, but—"

          "You have failed me," she repeated, then turned, her amber-gray eyes almost glowing with anger.  She held a large white flower in her hand.

The young man stared at the blossom, his gaze locked on the dew-damp pedals.  He managed one step away from the priestess before his muscles locked up and he was frozen in place.  Dominga circled around him like a cat, toying with a wounded mouse.  She reached out, raking her long red nails down one of the man's cheeks.  His eyes rolled up in his head and he fell to the ground.

She dropped the flower onto his chest, the pedals immediately curling up as if some invisible flame was burning them.  The young man writhed in soundless agony for more than a minute, then lay still.

          "José!" she called.

          An older Black man hurried into the garden.  He stumbled to a stop, looking down at the body of his nephew.

          "Feed him to the pigs," she snapped.

          The old man nodded, tears pooling in his eyes.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Old Bight, Cat Island**

**1:00 p.m.**

 

          "There they are," Danny said quietly, spotting Jack and Viv in the crowd at the Spanish Plaza.  When Martin did not reply Danny glanced at the man, worried.  "Hey, you okay?" he asked.  Martin's face had gone a sickly gray color and his eyes were glazed, like he was running a high fever, but there was no sweat on his skin.

          Martin shook his head, sucking in a shallow breath.

          "What?" Danny asked, then reached out and grabbed Martin's arm when he swayed dangerously.  Several people moved around them, giving the pair a wide berth.

          "My head feels like it's gonna explode," Martin replied, his voice slurred as if his tongue was swollen or he was very, very drunk.

          "You want to sit down?" Danny asked, glancing around, looking for someplace in the shade.

          "Chest hurts," Martin moaned.  "My bones, too."

          Danny saw Martin's eyes roll up a moment before he felt the man's knees buckle and grabbed for him as he pitched forward.  "Martin," he said, worry making his voice tight.  He held the man's entire weight for a moment, then lowered him to the ground.  Looking up at the people who were passing by, trying to ignore them, he called, "Hey, I need some help here!"

The tourists and islanders looked away, some of them making the sign of the cross as they hurried by.

Danny looked back at his friend.  Martin's lips had turned an odd shade of blue and he reached out to check his friend's pulse with trembling fingers.

He didn't find one.

"Martin?" he snapped, shaking the man's shoulder roughly.  "Come on, Princeton…  Martin?  Damn you, don't you do this to me."

He checked for a pulse again, finding nothing again.  He leaned over, pressing his ear to the man's chest.  "Come on, Martin… please."

"Mr. Salvador?"

Danny recognized the voice and looked up, meeting Jack's concerned gaze.  "He's dead," was all he could manage.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Jack watched the crowd while Viv bought a hand-woven shawl from an old woman selling her wares under a bright blue umbrella in the town's central plaza.  The Spanish marketplace was a tourist must-see, and they had moved through it as quickly as they could.  Their earlier trip to the old plantation home had turned up nothing.

He and Viv had been making a point of stopping at each of the vendors who offered anything that even might be related to the practice of voodoo, but thus far none of them had mentioned Señora Alvorado, even when asked about Santeria.

          He grinned briefly when a breeze bent the brim of Viv's large straw hat down as she stepped up to join him, obscuring her vision.  She deftly popped it back up again and grinned back at him.

          "What do you think?" she asked, holding up the delicate lace shawl.

          "Pretty," he said, only glancing at the foam green garment for a moment before he continued to scan the crowd, looking for Danny and Martin.  Sam and Dr. Blackmoon had arrived at the plaza about a half-hour earlier, Sam wearing a white pants suit and sunglasses.  They hadn't found anything either.  He glanced down at his watch.  Where the hell were they?  He was about to suggest that they return to the resort when he finally spotted the two men nearing the edge of the plaza.

No hats.  They had found Castillo.

He reached out and tapped Viv on the shoulder.  "Honey, I'm getting hungry.  Why don't we go grab a bite to eat?"

          She looked up, her gaze sweeping over the plaza.  She smiled when she spotted the pair.  "Sounds good, I'm hungry, too."

          They started through the crowd toward the two men.  Then Martin went down like someone had clubbed him.

          "What the hell?" Jack said, starting to bolt forward.  A strong grip on his arm stopped him.

          "Easy," Viv cautioned, "not too obvious."

          Jack looked down at her, a hot retort on his tongue, but he swallowed it.  She was worried, too, chewing her lower lip.  And she was right.  Together they casually made their way to the far side of the plaza.  He fought the desire to walk on tiptoe so he could see what was happening over the heads of the crowd.

          A few moments later they stepped out of the throng.  Danny was kneeling on the ground, leaning forward, his ear pressed against Martin's chest.

          "Mr. Salvador?" Jack called as soon as he felt like he could.

          Danny looked up, his expression a mixture of shock and anguish.  "He's dead," was all he said.

          "What?" Jack said.

          He and Viv rushed forward to join Danny, kneeling on the stone street, both checking for a pulse and failing to find one.  Jack moved to start CPR, Danny joining him.

          "I'll call for help," Viv said, her voice breaking as she stood and bolted off.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Pink Sands Resort, Cat Island**

**4:47 p.m.**

 

          Danny sat hunched over at the resort's poolside bar, nursing a soda, his gaze locked on the surf as rolled in along the beach.  Jack and Viv sat with him, their expressions carefully neutral.  The local police had arrived at the plaza and, after declaring Martin dead, had immediately set about determining whether or not the agent was a victim of foul play.  About an hour later they finally sent his body to the morgue.

The three Americans had been taken to the police station and questioned individually for another hour.  After the interrogations, they were asked to provide a statement, then allowed to return to the resort.

          "What happened?" Jack finally asked, his voice rough.

          Danny shook his head and shrugged weakly.  "I— I don't know."  He glanced around, making sure no one could overhear him.  "We got to the plantation.  We swam around, then headed for the beach.  Martin stayed there and took a look at the plantation house.  I saw Castillo, and his daughter.  The house is guarded.  I counted seven.  Then I saw a guy come out and head into the jungle.  I followed him.  He and Martin had a run-in.  The guy tossed something in Martin's face."

          "What was it?" Viiv asked, her own voice tight and her eyes puffy and bright.

          Danny shrugged again.  "I couldn't really see it.  He had his back to me.  But there was a fine red powder on Martin's face.  He washed it off, but it gave him a headache and made him wobbly on his feet."

          "Damn," Jack sighed, shaking his head.  "Maybe it was some kind of a poison…  We have to get Castillo and his daughter out tonight."

          "Viv?" a voice interrupted.

The three turned to find Dr. Blackmoon walking up to join them.  "Dr. Blackmoon," Viv greeted.

The anthropologist opened her arms, inviting Viv into a hug, and she took the older woman up on the invitation.  "Can we go up to your room?" Blackmoon asked softly.

Viv pulled back and wiped a tear off her cheek.  "I guess you heard what happened?"

"Yes.  I'm very sorry."

"Would you like to come up to the room?" Viv asked.  "I could really use a woman-friend right now."

"Of course, my dear."

          Jack nodded and stood.  "Danny, come on, we'll go up, too.  I'll order a bottle and we'll have a drink."

Danny nodded.

They entered the resort together, almost running into Sam, who had rushed into the lobby like a small whirlwind.  She met Jack's gaze and Malone immediately knew something was very, very wrong.

"Dr. Blackmoon," Same greeted as she walked up to join them.  "I have a few more questions for you."

"Now isn't a good time," the anthropologist said.

"But—"

          "Join us," Jack offered.  "I'll explain."

          Sam nodded and fell in behind them.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Is it true?" Sam asked when they were inside the large suite Jack and Viv were sharing.

          Viv nodded, not trusting her voice.

          "Oh my God," she sighed.  "I heard what happened.  I went to the morgue to—"  She shook her head, took a deep breath and continued.  "He's not there."

          "What?" Danny demanded, stepping up to the blonde.

          Sam looked up at him, meeting his demanding gaze.  "He's gone," she said quietly.  She reached out, resting a comforting hand on the man's shoulder.  "Someone took his body.  That's why I was looking for you," she explained.

          "Señora Alvorado," Dr. Blackmoon said softly.

The agents turned to look at the woman, waiting for her to explain.

"That's why I came.  I heard from an informant that Dominga is planning a white goat ceremony tonight."

          "White goat?" Jack questioned, looking worried.

          "A ritual that includes a human sacrifice," the anthropologist explained.

          "Martin's body?" Danny asked, his expression one of disgust.

          "It could be the Senator, or his daughter," Viv offered.

          "One of your people is missing?" Dr. Blackmoon asked.

          "Martin," Danny said.  "He just fell over… dead."

          "Was he exposed to any kind of a dust?" the older woman asked.  "Or a strange drink?"

          Danny nodded.  "A red dust.  At least, I think it dust, something that can be blown off your hand.  A man blew in his face."

          "He's not dead," Blackmoon assured them.  "That dust is used to simulate death."

          "Then Martin might be this white goat?" Jack asked.

          The anthropologist nodded.  "If Dominga wanted to cement Senator Castillo's cooperation, she might bind him to her, or bind his daughter to her.  In order to do that she would have to have a human sacrifice.  Your man would give her a considerable amount of power."

          "But that's just superstition," Jack argued.  "Killing Martin isn't going to really do anything."

          "Dominga believes it," Blackmoon said flatly.  "And so do her followers, including Senator Castillo."

          "We have to get back to that house," Jack said.

          "That won't be a problem," the older woman said, reaching into her tote.  She pulled out a folded piece of white paper and handed it to Jack.

          He opened the paper and read aloud, "Alexandra, you and your new friends are welcome to attend my party this evening.  I think they will find it most interesting.  Arrive by 6 p.m.  The Reynolds-Smyth Plantation."

          "That bitch," Sam hissed, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

          Dr. Blackmoon nodded.  "It won't be easy.  Dominga is very powerful.  And no one there will do anything to help you.  They will die for her if she asks them to."

          "Jack, we can't kill innocent people," Viv stated.

          Malone's eyes flashed.  "I know that, but I'm not going to stand there and let her sacrifice Martin either."

          "Maybe we won't have to," Danny said.  "There are thing on the boat we can use as weapons."

          "You get into Dominga's circle using guns," Dr. Blackmoon warned.

          "Doctor, with all due respect," Jack said, "we'll do whatever it takes to get our people out of there.  It would help if we could blend in somehow."

          The anthropologist shook his head.  "I'm afraid only Mr. Salvador could pull that off."

          "Do you know where she might be holding the Senator and his daughter?" Jack asked the older woman.  "If we can get them out, that will give us more options."

          Blackmoon thought for a moment.  "She'll hold the ritual in the main house.  There will be about twenty to twenty-five locals who will attend.  I would guess that she would keep Castillo and his daughter in the old slave quarters until the time was right.  She would appreciate the symbolism.  Your man will be in the ballroom, or nearby, since they will have to prepare him before the ritual."

          "Then we'll start in the slave quarters," Jack said.  "Once we get Castillo and his daughter out, then we can look for Martin's body."

          "Believe me, he's not dead," Blackmoon assured.  She reached into her tote again, this time pulling out a small white leather bag.  She handed it to Jack.  "You'll need to sprinkle the contents on his nose and mouth.  He should wake up in a few minutes, but it'll take about ten minutes before he's truly conscious.  And be careful, he'll be susceptible to Dominga's powers until he is fully awake."

          "And how long will that be?" Viv asked.

          "About an hour, until then she will try to use him against you."

"Martin isn't going to hurt us," Sam said.

          The anthropologist shrugged as she reached up and removed the small brown-leather medicine bag she wore around her neck, handing it to Jack.  "Believe whatever you like, but I've seen more rituals that I can even begin to count.  I've seen what Dominga can do.  Put this around his neck once you're sure he recognizes you; it should help protect him."

"What's this for?" Jack asked.

"Focus," was the less than forthcoming reply.  "Please, don't treat Dominga lightly or she will destroy you."

          "We won't treat her lightly," Jack told her.  "But we have a job to do, and black magic isn't going to stand in our way."

"And if she did kill Martin, she won't be leaving this island – ever," Danny said softly, his voice full of deadly threat and promise.

The other three agents exchanged troubled glances

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Reynolds-Smyth Plantation**

**15:40 p.m.**

 

          Dominga glanced up when Alexandra Blackmoon entered the ballroom, which was elaborately decorated for the ritual to come.  Several people stood along the symbol-inscribed walls, their bodies swaying as they listened to the three men who beat out a soft, steady cadence on their drums.  She smiled and swept over, the full white skirt she wore swirling around her legs like clouds.

"Ah, I see you arrived on time," she said as she reached the anthropologist.  "And where are your new friends?"

          Dr. Blackmoon did not return the woman's smile, nor did she accept Dominga's proffered hand.  "I gave them directions.  I'm sure they'll be along shortly."

          The priestess laughed.  "Oh, I am very sure they will."  She reached out and fingered the new medicine bag the anthropologist wore around her neck.  "Do you really believe that this can protect you from me?" she asked, amused.

          Blackmoon stood her ground, her expression unruffled.  "Yes, Dominga, I do.  And so do you."

          The priestess laughed again, but she released the medicine bag and took a step back.  "Tonight I will show you just how powerful I have become, Alexandra."

          Dr. Blackmoon smiled then.  "You've picked the wrong victim this time, Dominga.  They will destroy you."

          Alvorado's eyes narrowed and her upper lip curled off her teeth.  "They cannot stop me," she snarled.  "I will not allow it.  I will have my sacrifice, my American Senator, _and_ my apprentice."

          Blackmoon took a step closer to the priestess, anger flaring.  "You will _not_ have that child," she said softly.

          "She is already mine," Dominga purred.

          "If that were true, you wouldn't need the goat," the anthropologist countered.

          Dominga turned away.  "We shall see."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Jack and Viv crouched in the thick shadows of the trees and studied the old, vine-covered plantation home.  Their trip to the house had taken all of seven minutes – once the three guards waiting for them on the beach had been dealt with.  The mansion had been built around a central open quad that had once served as an inner courtyard.  There were two breaks in the otherwise square structure, a stately archway at the front of the house that would have once admitted carriages, and, at the rear, one wing that was shorter than the others, leaving an opening for people and carriages to exit to the stables, which were behind the house.  Dr. Blackmoon had explained that the shorter wing would be the quarters for those black slaves who worked in the house and the kitchen.

          A moment later Sam and Danny joined them.

"Still seven, so maybe the three on the beach were new hires," Danny said.  "But there are a bunch of locals going into the house."

          "At least twenty," Sam confirmed.  "But all the noise is coming from the west wing."

          "Probably where the ballroom is," Viv said.

"Ballroom?" Jack asked.

"Our voodoo queen is going to need a large space for all those people, and most of these old plantation homes had a ballroom.  If everyone's in the west wing, that's probably where it is."

          "How'd you know that?" Danny asked.

          "I read the tourist information," was the business-like reply.

          Jack's gaze lingered on the armed guards, his thoughts focused on how they were safely going to enter the slave quarters.  When he had made up his mind, he turned to the others and explained his plan.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          It was getting dark as they approached the building.  They pressed up against the wall, waiting for the guard who would eventually round the corner on his usual rounds.  He did and Jack quickly grabbed him.

Danny punched the man in the face three times so quickly the guard had no chance to duck or fight.  He slumped back against Malone.

"Where is the American and his daughter?" Danny asked quietly in Spanish.

          The man shook his head.

          Sam kicked the man in the crotch and he gurgled in pain and terror.  This time when Danny asked him again, he replied in a low fear-filled voice.

"The Senator and Rosella are here," Danny translated.  "Second floor, the third room from this end.  There's another guard in the room with them."

          Jack spun the man around and hit him.  The man dropped, unconscious, and Danny and Sam dragged him into the trees that had begun to reclaim the stable area behind the house.

          Viv checked around the edge of the building, getting a good look at the large grassy courtyard, in the center of which sat a large gurgling fountain.  Another guard stood at the edge, staring down into the water while he smoked a cigarette.  She raised the dart guns Blackmoon had somehow been able to procure for them, and fired.  The man took a step back, then fell onto the grass.  Danny hurried out and grabbed the man's legs, pulling him over into the tangle of white flowers that grew in beds along the inside walls.

          Jack led the way up the outside stairs to the second floor of the slave quarters.  They had to move quickly.  They were in the open.

          They reached the third room.  Jack and Danny kicked the door in at the same time.  Sam and Vin moved in, Viv firing at the single guard, who went down with a double dose of the tranquilizer.  Rosella squealed, but her father hugged her close, muffling most of the child's cry.

          Jack silently thanked Blackmoon for finding the non-lethal dart guns.  Three of the seven guards were already dispatched, leaving only four between them and Martin.  "Senator, are you all right?" he asked.

Castillo nodded.  "American?"

"Yes."  Jack said to the others, "Let's move back to the south corner."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Less than two minutes later the agents and Castillo, who was carrying his daughter, reached the corner of the building and slipped around to the stable side.

"I don't know who you are, but thank you," the Senator said.

          "Save it until when we get you and your daughter safely out of here, Senator," Jack said, his gaze sweeping the grounds for any signs of trouble.

          Surrounding the man and his child, they quickly moved back into the trees.  There they waited several minutes to see if any alarm would be raised.  There was nothing.

          Jack turned to Danny.  "I want you to get the Senator and his daughter back to the boat and stand by."

          "Jack—" he began to argue.

Malone cut him off.  "I know what you're going to say, and the answer's no.  You have your orders."

          Danny was unhappy, but he knew Jack's reasons – he was mad, Alvorado had made it personal, and not just for him, but he'd been the one with Martin when he'd gone down.  He nodded.

Jack waited until he was sure that Danny and the two hostages had a large enough head start to reach the boat ahead of any guards, then signaled for Viv and Sam to follow him.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Dr. Blackmoon watched as the ritual began.  Dominga was in her element, moving through the gathered men and women like some supernatural specter, dancing and chanting, calling the spirits she desired to help her.  The drummers maintained a steady, pounding rhythm that heightened the frenetic energy building in the old ballroom.  The priestess was slowly making her way toward a set of large doors that closed the ballroom off from what lay beyond, and the anthropologist had a pretty good idea about what was waiting in what was probably an old dining room – the American.

          She guessed Dominga had set up her second alter in the dining room, and the man was already there, unconscious and decorated for the sacrifice.  But Castillo and his daughter would have to be present before she could make her sacrifice and, with luck, the other agents had already freed the Senator and moved him and his child to a safe location where they could be picked up and returned to the U.S.

The priestess wasn't going to be happy about that, but her arrogance had grown to such proportions that she had become blind to the truth.  Her own sense of superiority was finally going to be her undoing, and Blackmoon found she couldn't even work up a tiny bit of remorse.  Dominga Alvorado had terrorized the people of this island long enough.

          Taking a deep breath, Dr. Blackmoon moved slowly toward the closed doors, hoping to be close by when the Americans rescued their friend.  Dominga might be destined to fail this night, but she was still a dangerous force to be reckoned with.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Jack and the others returned to the slave quarters, moving quickly along the outside of the building toward the west wing.  They went up an external stairway to the second floor, entering the building.  They proceeded down the hallway, checking the rooms they found one by one and finding no one.  Loud drumming came from the far end of the hall.

          At an intersecting hallway they stopped.  Jack leaned forward, getting a quick look down the second hall.  There were two more guards headed their direction.  Both had rifles, which they had slung over their shoulders with the muzzles down.  He signaled the others.

          When the men rounded the corner they were immediately hit by darts.  One of the men was struck in the neck and went down without a murmur.  The second was caught in the shoulder.  He staggered back and tried to lift his rifle.  Both Jack and Sam got off a second dart and the man went down.

          Viv checked the hallway again.  She saw no more guards and nodded.

          Jack covered them as Viv and Sam slipped into the next room.  He could hear the soft chants of the islanders escalate in a nearby room.  They had to be getting close.  He heard Viv announce "clear" then call quietly, "Jack, get in here."

He stepped into the room and closed the door.  He turned, his eyes going wide.  Lying on a makeshift altar was Martin.  He was bound at the wrists and ankles, and naked except for a very long, strategically draped white cloth.  His skin had been painted with strange twisting symbols in black, red and yellow that spread out from his chest and twined down his arms and legs.  Similar but smaller designs were painted on his neck, curling up over his jaw to splay out across his cheeks.  His closed eyes had been painted with black circles that were ringed with white, giving his face a macabre skull-like look.

          "I hate to say it, but there's something pleasingly aesthetic about this," Sam said, staring down at the man's naked but draped body.

          Viv shot her a questioning gaze, but wisely didn't comment.  She checked the Martin, saying softly, "He's not breathing… and I can't find a pulse."

          Jack moved over to the altar and pulled the small leather bag Dr. Blackmoon had given him out of his pocket.  He handed it to Viv.  "Here, pour this over his mouth and nose."

          She accepted the bag.  "You really think this is going to work?" she asked.

          Malone shrugged.  "I hope it does."

          "Me, too," Viv replied, then pulled open the bag and sprinkled the fine white powder over Martin's nose and mouth.

          The pounding drums grew louder as they waited for one, then two, and then three minutes to pass.  The apparent corpse sucked in a sharp breath and moaned.

All three agents took an involuntary step back.

          It was Jack who moved first to Martin's side when the man's eyes fluttered sluggishly open.  "Martin," he said softly.

          Blue eyes blinked owlishly, but Martin didn't speak or focus on Jack.

          Malone reached out and gripped Martin's shoulder, giving the man a gentle shake.  "Martin," he repeated, "can you hear me?"

          The unseeing eyes continued to look past Jack, focusing instead on the far corner of the room.  Without thinking Malone glanced over his shoulder to see what the younger man was looking at.  There was nothing there.  He looked back at Martin and quickly found himself lost in the designs painted on the man's chest.  Then the patterns seemingly began to move in time to the drumbeats echoing through the walls.  He blinked several times and forced himself to look away.

"Martin," he tried again, shaking the man a little harder this time.

"Jack?" was the barely audible reply.

          "Easy," Malone soothed.  "Do you know where you are?"

Martin glanced around, then shook his head.

"Señora Alvorado's house," Malone explained.  "You know who we are?"

"Yes," the man replied, his voice sounding as dry as old leaves.  "Get me loose."

Jack grinned.  "Glad to hear it," he said as he started to work on the leather restraints that trapped Martin's wrists.

Viv stepped up and began working on the restraints at the man's ankles while Sam stood guard.  As soon as they had him free, the pair helped Martin to sit up.

The younger agent sat, his fingers curling tightly over the edge of the altar until the vertigo fell off to a tolerable level.  He swallowed, then forced himself to stand.  He grabbed for the white cloth as it started to slip away, holding it in place to cover himself, realizing for the first time that he was naked.  "What the hell happened to me?" he asked, staring down at his weirdly painted body.

"I'll explain later," Jack said, moving over to the large double doors where Sam now stood.

"Sounds like she's getting ready to unveil her sacrifice," Sam said.  "She got them worked up into a real fever."

"Sacrifice?" Martin echoed, looking confused and unsteady on his feet.

"Here," Jack said, tossing Viv the second medicine bag Dr. Blackmoon had given him.

She caught the small leather bag in one hand.  "Yeah, you were voted white goat most likely to win her a U.S. Senator."  She quickly slipped the bag over Martin's head.

"Thanks," he said, "but I'd rather have a pair of pants."

She grinned, reaching out to press her palm to his cheek, reassuring herself that he was really alive.  "Sorry.  Next time I'll remember to bring a spare pair – just in case."

Martin muttered something to himself, then turned away so he could use the long piece of white cloth to fashion himself a breechclout.

"Not bad," Viv teased when he turned back around.

"We used to play cowboys and Indians when I was a kid," he replied softly, but his eyes twinkled playfully.  "Being the youngest, I was always the Indian."

"You feeling okay?" Jack asked, handing Martin a loaded dart gun.

He nodded.  "Just don't ask me to run more than a few yards."

Malone grinned.  "Let's get the hell out of here.  There should be two more guards somewhere and a shitload of civilians.  Let's see if we can't avoid—"

The doors flew open and they were looking into the angry amber-gray eyes of Dominga Alvorado.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Dominga knew her enemies were in the next room; she could feel their energy.  They had revived their fallen companion, but they would never leave the house.  She looked to one of the guards who waited by the double doors.  "Get Castillo," she said.

          He nodded and left.  Three minutes later he was back, his eyes wide, sweat beaded across his upper lip.  "The American and his child are gone," he said.

          "Fools!" Dominga hissed.  She stepped to the edge of the circle she had created and waved her hand, throwing open the double doors.

          Martin stood closest to the priestess, Jack just behind him and to the left, Viv and Sam just behind Martin on the right.  The assembled guests gasped when they saw the Señora's sacrifice on his feet, his blue eyes like shining like angry gems inside the black circles.

          Dominga stepped forward, her arms rising above her head.  She had a machete in her right hand, its edge already black with blood.  "Come, enter my circle, Martin," she said, gray-amber eyes sparkling.

          The agent took an involuntary step closer, then stopped.  He looked down.  There was a dead white goat lying at her feet, three headless white chickens next to it.  He knew if he stepped into the room he would die as well.

          "Come to me," Dominga commanded.

          Jack raised his weapon and fired at a guard who stepped into the dining room, his rifle beginning to come up.  The man went down in a heap on the floor.  Then his attention shifted back to Alvorado.  Even months later, Malone wasn't really sure he saw what happened next.

          In the ballroom a circle of dancing white flames sprang up.  Dominga Alvorado stood just inside the writhing spectacle, her dress made up of the same white flames.  Jack knew the room had to be full of the same spectators who had just reacted when they saw Martin, but now all he could see was the priestess and Martin.

          "Come to me," the woman ordered a second time.

          Martin took another step closer to the white flames, the dart gun slipping from his fingers.  "Jack," he said, "get outta here."

          "Not without you," Malone replied.

          "I can't fight her long," he said.  "Get out – now!"

          "The Senator thinks he is safe," Dominga hissed, "but I will show him.  I will show _all_ of you.  Even here I can reach out and steal his child from him."  She bent and grabbed one of the goat's horns, jerking its head up.  The machete was still poised to strike.

          "No!" Martin snapped, taking another step closer.

          Jack wanted to reach out and grab the sniper's arm, but he couldn't move.  He did manage to turn his head slightly, though, finding Viv and Sam also rooted in place in the old dining room.

          Dominga looked up, meeting Martin's eyes.  "I will spare the child if you come to me," she purred.  "Do you have children?  Imagine how you would feel if your youngest child were to be stripped from you…  Come to me, and I will spare the child."

          "No!" thundered a new voice.

          Jack jerked, reeling like he'd been struck by the power behind that single word.  His heart pounded in his chest.  They were in trouble, and it wasn't the kind of trouble their weapons were going to get them out of.

          Alexandra Blackmoon stepped through the white flames and entered the dining room, pausing in front of Martin.  "Listen to me," she said, and the agent nodded.  "If you step into the circle, she will allow the child to live, but she will still be Dominga's to command.  You will sacrifice yourself for nothing."

          "Do not interfere, Alexandra," the priestess screeched.

          "How do I stop her?" Martin asked the anthropologist.

          "You must simply decide to be stronger than she is.  She cannot control your will if you do not allow her to do so."

          Martin looked from Blackmoon to Alvorado.  "Lady," he snapped, "my friends and I are leaving – now."

          "No," Dominga replied.  "You belong to me."

          Martin chuffed out a laugh.  "I've heard the same crap from my father, and I don't buy it when he says it either."

          "Many people fear me," Dominga hissed, "you should be one of them."  She let the goat fall back onto the floor and pointed the machete at Martin.

          Jack heard Viv gasp he saw the designs on Martin's body began to move, and realized she must be able to see the same thing.  The designs were undulating and contorting across his skin.

Martin threw his head back and cried out, a searing white-hot pain burning along every nerve.

          "Fight her!" Blackmoon barked.  "Refuse to accept the pain!  Do not let her steal your power.  Fight for your life!  Fight for the lives of your friends!"

          Martin's body jerked like he was being beaten, but he managed to take two lumbering steps closer to the white flames.  "Stop!" he yelled.

          Dominga began to chant.  The scent of cloves rose, making the air thick and hard to breath.

Jack felt a rush of power wash over him.  It was like an electric current running over his body and his skin ached with it.

          "Use the power!" Blackmoon shouted at Martin.  "Use it to protect yourself!"

          Martin reached up, his fingers curling tightly around the medicine bag hanging around his neck.  "Jack!" he called.

          Malone stumbled forward.  It felt like he'd been frozen in a block of ice that had magically evaporated.  He reached Martin a second before Viv and Sam did.  He reached out and grabbed Martin's shoulder.  The electric-like energy jolted through his arm, making the hairs on his arms stand on end, but now the power felt more welcoming.

          With his free hand, Martin reached out and grabbed Viv's shoulder.  She, in turn, took Sam's hand in her own, creating a solid wall of resistance.

          For the agents time and movement both seemed to slow.  Jack felt the power swell around them, pushing out to meet that coming from the priestess.  The white flames shot higher, obscuring the woman until they fell back lower than they had been.  Dominga screamed, summoning her power again and pushing back at them.

          For a moment it was if like they'd stepped out into the full force of a raging hurricane.  Jack closed his eyes, then forced them open when Martin's body jerked under his hand.  The painted designs were still moving, this time slipping off his body and curling around their necks.  Suddenly he was choking, and he could hear Viv and Sam gasping as well.

          "No!" Martin yelled.  He convulsed forward, but he refused to let go of the medicine bag.  "Stop!  No more!"

          Jack felt the vise that was squeezing his throat closed loosen.  He sucked in a deep breath, Viv and Sam doing the same.  He looked at Martin and swore aloud.  The painted designs were swirling over his body again, then they seemed to lift free of his skin, floating in the air around him.  They drove back in, sliding along his skin, raising long red welts.

          "Concentrate on Dominga," Blackmoon's voice ordered.  "Send the energy to her."

          Martin groaned low in his chest and Jack felt the sound vibrate through him like it was a note being played on some giant violin he was a part of.  The designs, swirling now like tendrils of multi-colored fog, began to move closer to the priestess.

          Dominga's eyes rounded in surprise and fear.  "No!" she screamed.

          The twisting fog that circled Martin suddenly shot forward, passing through the white flames and wrapping around Alvorado.  She jerked and convulsed like she was being electrocuted.  A moment later she was lying on the floor, her white dress stained red with blood.

          Jack sucked in a sharp breath as the white flames disappeared and the world returned to normal.  The guests stood in the ballroom, staring down at the body of their priestess.  Dominga was dead, her eyes still wide open, her lips curled back off her teeth in a silent scream.

          "Look," Sam said, breaking the silence.  She pointed to Martin, who was on his hands and knees in the doorway, throwing up, waiting again for the world to stop spinning.

          Jack looked.  The man's skin was completely clean.

          The three agents moved to Martin's side, helping the man to stand.

"Martin, are you all right?" Malone asked.

          He nodded.

          Dr. Blackmoon quietly spoke to Dominga's guests and they quickly fled without a word or a sound.  When they were alone she turned back to the agents operators and smiled.  "Congratulations."

          "For what?" Jack asked.  "What the hell just happened?"

          "It's complicated," the older woman explained, "let's just say that it was a major victory for the good guys."

          Martin slipped the medicine bag off his head and handed it back to her.  "I think this is yours," he said.

          She took the bag and carried it over to Dominga's body.  Opening it up, she poured the contents over the priestess's body.  "Do not linger, Dominga," she said softly.  "Move on now to the next world where you will face your judgment."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          When they reached the beach, Danny was there to greet them.  "I was just on my way back to find you," he said.

          "The Senator?"

          "He and his daughter are fine.  They're on the boat," he explained.

          Jack turned to the sniper.  "You think you're up to a short swim?"

          Martin started to nod, but then his eyes rolled up and he collapsed onto the sand.

          "Is he dead again?" Malone asked.

Viv and Sam both hit him.

"What?!" he demanded.  "It's a reasonable question!"

          "He just passed out," Dr. Blackmoon said, kneeling beside Jack as he checked Martin for a pulse, this time finding a strong, steady one.  "He'll slip in and out like that for about twelve hours.  It would be best if you could just get him to bed and keep him there."

          "Not likely," Jack replied, "but we can try."  He looked up, meeting her gaze.  "Thank you."

          The older woman smiled.  "You're very welcome."

          Danny knelt next to Martin as he opened his eyes again.  "Hey, you okay?"

          "Never better," Martin groaned.  "I feel like I've got the mother of all hangovers… and I didn't even have a drink."

          "You sure?" Danny asked.  "That's one hell of a costume you've got on."

          "Somebody forgot my pants."

          "Looked like you were doing a good imitation of a zombie," Sam said.          "Come on," Viv said, "let's get you back to the boat so you can get some rest."

          Martin looked from Danny to Viv, his eyes sparkling with amusement.  "You two volunteering to play nurse?"

          Viv grinned.  "Maybe, but only if your prescription calls for a swift kick in the butt."

          "Pass," Martin said, climbing to his feet with help from Danny and Sam.

          "Care to tell me what just happened back there?" Sam asked.

          Martin snorted.  "Sure, just as soon as someone explains it to me."

          "Of course, considering that Princeton here was dead for most of it, I think I better ask someone else," Danny teased, holding his arms in front of him and stalked off moaning, doing a passable imitation of Frankenstein.

          "Wrong movie, Danny," Martin called after the man.

          Jack looked back at Dr. Blackmoon.  "It feels like it was all a movie, but it wasn't, was it?"

          "No," she replied.  "It was real, Agent Malone, very real."

          "That's what I was afraid you were going to say."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**FBI Headquarters, New York City**

**Three days later**

 

          Danny walked over to turn the television off in the break room.  "They got it wrong, all wrong," he muttered as he stabbed the power button on the cable box, cutting short the credits on the classic zombie movie.

Walking out, he headed back to the bullpen, stopping by Jack's office.  "I'm going home," he told him.

Jack looked up from the report he was finishing.  "Yeah, okay, good night," he told him.

Danny turned around and jumped when he almost ran right into Martin.  "Madre de Dios," he gasped.  "Warn a man, would you?"

Martin just groaned and stared, unblinking, into the man's eyes.

"Martin?" Danny asked, his voice clearly worried.  He took a step back.  "Jack!"

Martin moaned again and took a step forward, rolling his eyes.

          Danny stepped back around the desk that was in the way, bolting toward the elevator.  "Not funny, Princeton!" he called back, then disappeared.

          Martin heard Jack chuckle and turned around to find Malone leaning against the doorjamb of his office.  "Hey, Jack," he said.

          "How long to do plan on harassing Danny?"

          Martin shrugged, "Oh, at least another day or two."

          Jack shook his head.  "Why not," he mumbled.

          "My thought, exactly."

          Jack's gaze swept over the younger man.  "How are you doing?"

          "Fine," Martin replied.  "The doctor say I'm good to go."

          "And what do _you_ say?"

          Martin drew a deep breath and then let it out.  "I say I feel fine, and the dreams aren't too bad.  Not much else to say…  I don't' understand what happened, I just know it did happen."

          Jack nodded.  "All this ooga-booga shit, it's… weird."

          "Too freakin' weird," Martin agreed.

          Jack crossed his arms over his chest as he said, "Why do I get the feeling you're holding out on me?"

          Martin grinned and shrugged.  "Guess I've seen a little weirdness, but nothing like that…"

          "A little, huh?"

          Another shrug.  "A little."

          "I'd like to hear about it some time."

          Martin nodded and offered Jack a shy grin.  "Some time…  Maybe after a few drinks."

          "It's a date," Jack replied.

          Martin laughed.  "Now _that's_ scary."

          "Should be," Malone replied.  "So, they cleared you to return to work?"

          Martin nodded.  "Full duty."

          "On Monday," Jack told him, figuring it wouldn't hurt Martin to have a long weekend.

          "Monday?" Martin echoed.

          Malone nodded.

          "I really do feel fine," Martin told him.

          "I don't doubt it," Jack replied.  "Go home, Martin, relax, be back here on Monday."

          Martin hesitated for a moment, then nodded.  "All right.  Thanks."

          "Maybe you can take that canoe out…"

          Martin rolled his eyes.  "Not you, too!"

          "Whatever," Jack said, turning away, a smile on his lips.  "Just don't turn up dead again!"

          "I'll give it my best shot," Martin fired back, grinning.  He turned and headed out, already making plans for his three day weekend.

The End


End file.
